


Collected Supernatural Shorts

by AmberDiceless



Category: Dogma, Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, MASH (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Assorted Flotsam & Jetsam, Drabbles, Ficlets, Gen, Photoshop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24923284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberDiceless/pseuds/AmberDiceless
Summary: Just a collection of 'missing scene' or 'what-if' shorts, mini-crossovers with multiple fandoms and crackficlets written over ten-plus years of Supernatural obsession.  Some are funny and others serious or sad; most but not all of them are Cas-centric.  All were originally published on Tumblr (and one previously published on AO3.)  Presented here in roughly chronological order.  Rated T for language.ETA 7/2/2020:Added a Season 13 bit featuring Gabriel and Lucifer that I'd missed.
Relationships: Castiel & Anna Milton, Castiel & Claire Novak, Castiel & Hannah (Supernatural), Castiel & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Anna Implied
Kudos: 10





	Collected Supernatural Shorts

**Author's Note:**

> See end notes for characters with cameos

**Sometime in Earth's distant past...**

_"Find a friend, Castiel?"_

_She remembers being at a shoreline, watching him study a small gray fish flailing about in the mud, and thinking she'd always know him by that same intent, slightly perplexed expression, no matter the visage he wore._

_He snapped a wing out to block her path. "Be careful! Don't step on it."_

_She'd had no such intention, but gave him a bemused look. Overprotective much, Cas? "All right. But why this fish?"_

_"I don't know. But it's very important," he informed her solemnly, lowering his wing. "Big plans for that fish."_

_"What, this little guy?" Anna crouched down beside him, regarding the humble creature curiously, and smiled. "He_ is _kinda cute..."_

[Please check out the gorgeous fanart of this scene by goatheart! _  
_](http://ambular-d.tumblr.com/post/52424912896/goatheart-i-wasnt-planning-to-finish-this-i)

\---

**A little over 2000 years ago...**

_And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, 'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.'  
_

And the angels gathered unseen about the manger, gazing with wonder and reverent joy upon the newborn King. _  
_

"Behold! He is magnificent," said Inias.

"He is glorious," Rachel agreed.

"He is perfection!" Samandriel declared.

"He is most beautiful," said Castiel.

And last of all, spake Anna:

"He's _so cute!!"_

\---

**Uijeongbu, South Korea, circa 1950** _(and one time-jump gone wrong from the year 2014, apparently)..._

Cas was still tinkering with the still when Hawkeye came back into the Swamp several hours later. He glanced up inquiringly as Hawkeye stepped inside the tent and just stood there for a moment, looking at him. "Rough shift?"

"There's no way that kid should've stood a chance," Hawkeye said finally. "His belly was full of shrapnel and contaminated all to hell, he'd lost way too much blood--he should've been too far gone into septicemia before he even got here. I only even gave it a shot because you seemed so damn certain. But it looks like he's gonna pull through. But the other kid..."

"Let me guess," Cas said, turning his attention back to the tangle of tubing he'd been messing with. "You lost the other kid on the table, for no apparent reason."

"That's right, exactly. One minute he was doing fine, and the next his vitals bottomed out and we couldn't get him back no matter how hard we tried." Hawkeye seated himself on his cot and eyed Cas intently. "How did you _know?_ None of us could've pulled that off. I mean, don't get me wrong, we're good, but not glance-at-a-guy-and-tell-if-he'll-make-it good. I've never _met_ anybody who could do that, but you claim you're not even a doctor."

"I'm not," Cas said, decanting a glass of clear liquid from the still and offering it to him. "I just know. Call it a talent. ...here, lemme know me how that grabs you."

"Then it's not something you could teach us," Hawkeye concluded, accepting the glass.

"'Fraid not. It's just something I've always been able to do," his strange houseguest said apologetically. "I don't think I could even explain how I do it, really, let alone tell you how you could."

"Fair enough. I don't suppose I could talk you into sticking around this hellhole? We could really use that kind of talent, and you seem to like it here--which should put you miles ahead of Klinger for a Section 8, in my not so humble opinion, but far be it for me to complain." Hawkeye remembered his drink and tried a sip, then coughed and blinked as his eyes watered. "Oh, that's _exquisite."_

"It beats my last gig," Cas said neutrally, filling a glass of his own. (He drank too much, Hawkeye thought, but if it was true what he'd just said--as hard as it was to imagine that anyplace could be worse than Korea in wartime--he really couldn't blame the guy.) "And I got noplace else to go, really. If you're sure you really want me hanging around, showing up your people with my spooky parlor tricks and throwing off the curve for Max."

"If it means we lose fewer patients we could be saving? You bet I do. Make us look as bad as you want." Hawkeye made a dismissive gesture. "I'll personally buy Klinger some new lingerie and start telling people I got my medical license out of a Cracker Jack box."

Cas dropped his eyes, his mouth curling into something between a smirk and a laugh that didn't quite make it. "I don't think that would fool anyone, Hawkeye. I'll be of service such as I can. Just bear in mind that I'm no prophet. All I can do is tell you whether a man has the fight in him that he needs to survive, with your help, at the moment you ask."

Hawkeye sat back, glancing thoughtfully down at his glass as he gently swirled the contents. "So basically you're saying, you're not infallible. We could still screw up, or take too long getting to Hypothetical Wounded Guy, or he could just decide to throw in the towel, and we still wouldn't be able to help him."

"He could. Free will's a bitch like that," Cas agreed.

"I think I can live with that," Hawkeye said. "Not like any of that doesn't happen now, right? I promise I won't rescind your miracle worker status if they don't _all_ turn out how you called 'em. ...what? What's so funny?"

Cripes, it almost _hurt_ to watch the guy laugh like that. Hawkeye had a sinking feeling he'd said something wrong, though he couldn't for the life of him figure out what. But Cas shook his head and waved the question away.

"Nothing, nothing." He settled back with his drink, propping his boots up comfortably before him. "So, tell me about this Major Houlihan of yours. How the hell did such a work of art fall into the clutches of a sad, scared little man like Frank Burns?"

\---

**What if Anna had survived in the 2014-verse and came to Camp Chitaqua?**

_“Ironic, isn’t it? What was it you said—a walking blasphemy?”_

_“I dunno. Human looks pretty good on you, actually.”_

_“You would think so. Well, go on, take a swing. You know you want to. I won’t even duck.”_

_“Nah, think I’ll pass. It’d feel kind of anticlimactic at this point.”_

_“Then forgive me?”_

_“A long time ago.”_

\---

**So picture this:**

Crowley in a tense standoff with Sam and Dean

The snark's flying fast and furious

Someone's about to get shot, stabbed, banished, exorcised or otherwise handed their ass for sure

When suddenly...

_Yip! Yip!_

...all conversation ceases. The Winchesters perplexedly frown at each other. Crowley conspicuously fidgets.

Then his pocket rustles, and the edge of the fabric dips as _something,_ unseen and very small, emerges from its depths.

"Crowley?" Sam asks incredulously after a moment. "Have you got a...a _hellpuppy_ in your pocket?"

"Of course not, Moose. Don't be ridiculous," Crowley snaps, slowly turning red as he tries (and fails) to drop his hand to scratch at the Invisible Something's ears without the boys noticing.

 _Yip!_ The thing in his pocket whines and gives an anxious baby yawn.

"Hellhound puppies are _ferocious_. Gnaw your face off as soon as look at you." Crowley toys with whatever-it-is as he speaks, his voice low and ominous. "You don't carry them around in pockets, you keep 'em locked in a warded kennel, feed 'em the blood of newborns and give 'em damned souls for chew toys. And--hey, _ow!"_ He winces and pulls his hand away, giving the pocket a disgruntled look. "Not so _hard,_ Junior! Daddy'll find you some nummies as soon as he's done with these...ah..."

He trails off, glancing up at the Winchesters (both of whom are trying, not very hard, not to laugh at him,) and heaves a deep sigh. _"Bollocks."_

_Yip! Yip!_

\---

**Scene I wanted in Season 9:**

**Cas:** _*Working at the Gas-N-Sip, minding his own business*_

 **Lady:** _*Comes in to buy a Slushee and sees him*_ **OH MY GOD, YOU'RE GOD!**

 **Cas:** W-what? Oh--I-I'm sorry, you must be mistaken--

 **Lady:** YOU'RE ON OUR CHURCH WINDOW!

 **Cas:** No, really, I--

 **Lady:** YOU SMITED OUR PASTOR!

 **Cas:** I-I'm so very sorry.

 **Lady:** THANK YOU SO MUCH! HE WAS AN ASSHOLE! THE NEW ONE'S MUCH NICER!

 **Cas:** Oh. Well...

 **Lady:** I CAME OUT THAT AFTERNOON AND MARRIED MY GIRLFRIEND LAST WEEK!

 **Cas:** Uh...congratulations?

 **Lady:** LOOK EVERYONE, I FOUND GOD AT THE GAS-N-SIP!

 **Cas:** Ma'am, please keep your voice down.

 **Lady:** WHY IS GOD PRICING SPRAY CHEESE AT THE GAS-N-SIP?

 **Cas:** ...the recession?

 **Lady:** OH MY GOD, GOD GOT LAID OFF! THOSE ONE PERCENT BASTARDS!

 **Cas:** _*Facepalms*_ FML...

 **Lady:** GOD, WILL YOU PLEASE BLESS MY PRIUS?

 **Cas:** If I give you money, will you go away?

\---

**Sometime in Season 10**

"Here, again?" Hannah frowned as she approached the park bench on which Castiel sat, hands folded, gazing out across the dark, empty playground. "You should be resting. You're not well."

"I like it here," he said simply, glancing up at the faintly-buzzing streetlamp that dimly illuminated the place.

Hannah checked a sigh and seated herself next to him, ramrod-straight and visibly uncomfortable.

"I don't understand," she ventured after a moment. "This is a place for human children to play. But they don't come at night." She followed his gaze upward. "And that's just an electric lamp, no different from thousands of others in this city. What is it you're hoping to find?"

_"Decided to kill me after all? ... What do you want from me, Castiel? ... Choosing your own course of action is confusing. Terrifying."_

_"I'm considering disobedience."  
_

_"Good."_

_"No. It isn't."_

"I don't know," he said finally. "Memories. Absolution. Advice."

Hannah's frown grew more perplexed still. "Advice? From whom?"

_"Anna, I don't know what to do. Please tell me what to do."_

_"Like the old days? No. I'm sorry. It's time to think for yourself."_

"Someone I should have listened to, and didn't." Cas straightened up with a sigh, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. "Someone whose counsel I've wished I could call upon more than once recently."

"Your friend Dean?" Hannah tried very hard to keep her tone neutral, and almost succeeded.

Cas smiled wanly. "No, though I've been missing him too. My old garrison commander, Anna."

Hannah _headtilted._ "Anna? Not the one who fell years ago? _Voluntarily?"_

"I'm afraid so. She had a very clear grasp of some things that came harder for me. And that I've sometimes found...difficult to articulate."

Hannah blinked, and pondered that for a moment. "She wanted to be human," she ventured tentatively. "She lived as one of them for years, or so it was rumored. And placed the entire Host at risk with her selfishness--" Catching herself, she hauled up and started again, carefully, struggling for understanding, or at least detachment. "Is that where you came by this fascination you have with them? With humans?"

"No." Cas shook his head, remembering. "I was then much as you are now. I didn't understand, or _approve._ I'm sorry to say that I was less kind in my judgement of Anna than you've been of me--and I appreciate that kindness, by the way. Perhaps if I'd been more willing to learn what she tried to teach me, I wouldn't have had to do it the very, very hard way. And perhaps we'd still have her guidance now."

Hannah shot him a narrow-eyed look. "Is that meant to be some sort of warning?"

Castiel smiled sadly. "Just an observation, and a regret. I've made a great many mistakes, Hannah, and she was among the first and worst. The least I can do is try to pass along the wisdom I came to share with her too late."

Hannah was silent for a time. "I can appreciate the sentiment, I think," she said finally. "But I still don't understand. It doesn't explain _why_ you love them so."

"Perhaps nothing can do that," Cas said contemplatively, "until you come across a human, or some facet of humanity, that strikes some deep chord within you. But--if I may offer my advice--don't wait for an Apocalypse to open your heart to the idea that it could happen. Anna loved humanity, and so did Gabriel, and Gadreel. Even Naomi remembered in the end that they were of value. If you look for that within them, soon you'll begin to see it too."

"I...will try," Hannah said, not unkindly, "If you'll come away from here and get some sleep. Whatever it is you're seeking absolution for, you won't find it here. Angels don't linger on as spirits. You know that."

_"I am nothing like you. You fell. Go."_

_"That's right. You're too good for my help. I'm just trash. A walking blasphemy."_

_"You really shouldn't have come. ... Come near Sam Winchester, and I'll kill you."  
_

"I know. But then, she wasn't always an angel." Cas sighed and levered himself off the bench with an effort. "But you're right, of course. I don't really know what keeps drawing me back to this place."

"Probably some human thing," Hannah said drily. "Which I may be able to appreciate one day, perhaps. But not tonight."

Unnoticed behind them as they walked away, the streetlamp flickered briefly, and an unexpected gust of wind stirred the calm night air.

\---  


**Promises, Promises ******

“Castiel, can I ask you something?”

“Of course. Anything.” He smiled slightly. There were a handful of humans to whom Cas wouldn’t refuse anything it was in his power to give. Claire Novak was one of them.

She shifted a little uncomfortably, but her bright, penetrating eyes never left his face. “Why did my dad say yes? Do you know?”

The angel went still for a long moment. When he spoke again, it was slowly, not looking at the girl. “Well, because I asked him, obviously.” He sighed, turning to fiddle pointlessly with whatever was sitting on the nearest surface. “I told him that he was special, and that he was needed in the coming war. Both of which were true, for what it’s worth.” A somber half-smile crossed his face at the memory. “He was a devout man...I don’t think he ever really doubted I was what I claimed to be. But your mother...she didn’t believe him when he told her he’d spoken with an angel, even in the face of miracles. She threatened to leave him if he wouldn’t submit to psychiatric care.”

“She did?” Whatever had prompted Claire to ask her question, her slightly aghast expression told him she hadn’t expected to hear that, and Cas felt a fresh stab of guilt at not keeping that particular detail to himself.

Nevertheless, it was out now, so he carried on, hoping that somewhere in the story Claire would find whatever it was she _had_ been looking for. “Yes. I think Jimmy may have felt he needed to prove to her that he hadn’t lost his mind. Or, to prove it to himself, maybe. And I know he wanted to help--to do what was right. To live his faith, not just profess it. So he said he’d do it--on one condition...”

He stopped, swallowing hard. What followed, in his own estimation, was one of the worst...well, not lies, but certainly one of the biggest and most tragic _miscalculations_ he’d ever made, and that was saying something. But he couldn’t deny Claire that truth even if it meant she’d hate him all over again.

Before he could go on, though, she headed him off and finished the tale herself. “That you promised you’d protect us. My mom and me.”

Castiel glanced up at her, his blue eyes shadowed with sorrow and regret. “Yes.”

Claire smiled tightly, dropping her own gaze. “Yeah. I, ah. I thought it was probably something like that. It’s okay. I didn’t used to understand, but I do now.”

She bit her lip. “It’s easy to make a promise like that, isn’t it? You say it, and you totally mean it.” She shook her head. “You wouldn’t lie about something like that in a million years. But then, things don’t go the way you expect. Stuff happens so fast, and it all gets out of control...and...”

Cas turned to face her fully, leaning back against the counter behind him. “And you learn that making promises and keeping them are two entirely different things,” he finished softly. “It’s not your fault, what happened to Kaia, Claire.”

“I know.” She looked up at him again, nodding resolutely and wiping her eyes with a small sniffle. “And what happened before--that wasn’t your fault, either. I just wanted you to know that I get that now. And if my dad was here...I think he would, too.”

\---  


**Something I Wish had Happened After 13x22, _Exodus:_**

**AU!Michael:** _*Leaves to prepare his troops or whatever, agreeing to meet back near the site of the rift*_

**Lucifer:** _*Waits a few minutes, staring up at the sky after him; then*:_ All right, he’s gone. You can come out now. 

**Gabriel’s body:** _*Wavers and vanishes*_

**Gabriel:** _*Walking out of the trees*_ You knew? 

**Lucifer:** _*Scoffs*_ Of course I knew. You got away with that once. You didn’t really expect me to fall for it again? 

**Gabriel:** But you didn’t give me away. 

**Lucifer:** What are you, crazy? _*Gestures up at the sky*_ You think I want to be stuck here, alone, with _him?_

**Gabriel:** Good point. Actually, that’s a _really_ good point. What were you gonna to do about it if you hadn’t wound up stranded here? 

**Lucifer:** _*Half-shrugs, pulling a vaguely uncomfortable face*_ Welllll, the plan was to regroup and come back later, take down Michael and save everyone. You’d have been okay, here, for a while, as long as you kept your head down. You’re good at that. 

**Gabriel:** _*Huffs, shaking his head in annoyance*_ Okay, I take it back. You’re only a medium-size bag of dicks. So what now? I mean, I get it, okay, you want your kid back. And as much as it pains me to admit it, that was kind of a dick move Sam pulled... 

**Lucifer:** Oh, you _think? *Frustrated gesture*_ See, it’s stuff like that that drives me crazy...they bitch when you’re bad, and then they keep right on bitching when you try to do better. No wonder they were Dad’s favorites, they’re just like him. 

**Gabriel:** _*Waves that away impatiently*_ Sure, whatever. Who’d have thought they’d be so unimpressed by your whole one day of repentance. Buncha ingrates, yadda yadda. But come on...you’re not really gonna turn our _whole world_ over to that psychopath? I mean, forget the humans. Forget what’s left of the other angels, even. You’re just gonna let him waltz in and bring it all crashing down? The Earth, everything? 

**Lucifer:** _*Long silence, staring off into nothing; then,*_ No. No, I’m not. I just haven’t quite figured out how we stop him. Yet. I’m working on it.

__

\---  


**Cas and Sam - Sometime post-14x20** _(after Chuck killed Jack)_

“I’m sorry, Sam.”

Weary and disspirited to his bones, Sam glanced across the room at Castiel, who sat hunched with his elbows propped on his knees and looked, if anything, even more disheartened and tired than he felt. “For what, Cas?”

“Everything. All of it,” the angel said softly, staring at emptiness. “You were a man of faith. Even with everything you’d seen, all that had been done to you, and taken from you–still, you believed, and you prayed. You held out hope of a higher power; of someone good watching over you who wanted to help.” He shook his head, studying his filthy, bloodied hands. “And then, piece by piece, you learned it was all real…and that it wasn’t.” He let his hands drop. “Angels. Heaven.” He smiled bitterly. _“God._ We all failed you–profoundly. I’m so sorry we let you down.”

Sam shifted, pondering that for a moment. “No, you didn’t,” he said finally.

Cas gave him a frankly disbelieving look, and he repeated, straightening up a bit, “You didn’t. I mean, Heaven, yeah. The other angels…Chuck…” He shook his head grimly, but pushed on, “But you never let me down, Cas. Don’t get me wrong, I thought you did, more than once. But even when things got really bad–I mean really bad,” and he didn’t have to elaborate; they both knew which times he was talking about, “I never could quite bring myself to give up on you. And somehow, you always came around and found a way to make things right. Whatever you had to do, every single time.”

Cas huffed softly. “Well…yes. I suppose so. And you’ll never know how much your faith has meant to me, Sam. But…”

“But nothing. “ Sam shook his head resolutely. “You remember back before Detroit and the Croatoan raid? When I told you and Bobby what I planned to do? He thought I was out of my mind. Dean wouldn’t even talk about it. And I thought you’d tell me the same thing they did–worst plan you ever heard, right?” He raised his eyebrows, remembering that trip and his shock at what the angel actually _had_ said. “Only you didn’t. You thought I might be able to pull it off. Not just that, you were willing to bet _everything_ on it.

“You believed in me when nobody else did, Cas. You turned Bobby around, and he convinced Dean. Hell, you convinced _me_ I wasn’t just having delusions of grandeur. I never could have put Lucifer away that first time if it wasn’t for you.”

Surprised, Cas pushed himself upright, brow furrowing. “Yes, I remember. But I never realized that was so important to you.”

“Well, it was. And that’s how it’s always been. Not just me–Dean too. Man, nobody has _ever_ been there for us the way you have. I mean, there was no one anywhere you wouldn’t stand up to for us. Even when you screwed things up, it was always because you were trying to help–never because you just didn’t care, or thought we didn’t matter, or wanted to use us to further your own ends. Cas, you’ve been a better friend to us, and a better _person_ on your worst day than the rest of your species put together.”

He sighed, settling into a more comfortable slouch in his chair. “So, the way I see it, back before, when I used to hope…or to try to believe, that we weren’t just out here alone, whistling in the dark; that there really was somebody up there who was on our side, and cared what happened to us…” It wasn’t easy, but somehow, he mustered a faint, rueful smile. “I wasn’t wrong. I didn’t know it, but it wasn’t God or the archangels or any of those other jerks I was praying to.

“It was you.”

\---  


**Untitled**

It's the year 2024, and Sam and Dean are hunting a pack of shape-shifters. Sam’s busy fulfilling his contractual obligation to be knocked out at least twelve times a season when one of the shifters gets the drop on Dean and is about to finish him off.

Instead, the shifter gets stabbed from behind by a sixteen-year-old boy Dean has never seen before.

“Sloppy, Dean,” the kid says as he drops the body. “You guys are getting rusty in your old age." And he wipes his blade on the dead guy’s coat, nods to Dean, and strolls off. "Hope Sam’s okay.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Do I know you, kid? Hey! What’s your name?” Dean calls after him as he hurries to check on Sam.

The kid glances back at him with an odd, almost affectionate little smile. “B.J.,” he says, and vanishes around a corner. Dean tries to find him later, but has no luck. The shifters seem to have vanished as well.

He spends the next several days trying to remember where he’s met a punk-ass kid named BJ before. But it’s not until weeks later, when he and Sam are at a grocery store several states away, stocking up on pie, beer and bagged salad, that he hears a baby start to cry a few aisles over and drops a six-pack in shock.

_“Bobby-John…”_

\---  


**Supernatural meets Good Omens and Dogma!**

**Dogma!Metatron:** Wait, you get to drink _and_ have sex? I'm putting in for a bloody transfer.

 **Castiel:** _*Reddening*_ Well...not _officially..._

 **Aziraphale:** _*Pats his hand*_ There now, my dear, we've all been guilty of our little indiscretions.

 **GO!Crowley:** _*Chokes on his tea at the phrase 'Little indiscretions'*_

 **Dogma!God:** _*Helpfully pounds him on the back*_

 **SPN!Crowley:** 'Indiscretions?' Is that what they're calling it these days? I would have said 'Megalomania' and--

 **Castiel:** _*Gives him a stony look*_

 **SPN!Crowley:** _*Shuts up*_

 **GO!Death:** DOES ANYONE ELSE FIND THIS A BIT CONFUSING?

 **Dogma!Loki** and **SPN!Gabriel!Loki:** _*Exchange glances*_ Nah.

 **SPN!Death:** _*Munching*_ A trifle tedious, perhaps. Good onion rings, though.

 **Adam Young:** When do we get ice cream?

 **Sam:** _*Jumps up*_ I-I'll go get it right now! OhgodIdon'tevencarejustlemmeouttathisroomPLEASE

 **Bethany:** _*Jumps up too*_ I'll help!

 **Dean:** _*Looks disappointed, was trying to hit on her*_

 **SPN!Lucifer:** _*Whines*_ How come I don't get another Lucifer to talk to? This isn't _fair._ Sam! I want sprinkles.  


**Bartleby:** Wait, so you got blown up and _came back?_ Twice? How does that even work? _*Disgruntled look at Dogma!God, who smiles and boops his nose*_

 **Castiel:** _*Mumbles*_ It's not all it's 'cracked up' to be. _*Air quotes*_

 **People Covered in Fish** (formerly **Treading in Dogshit,** **All Foreigners Especially The French,** **No Alcohol Lager, Things Not Working Properly Even When You've Given Them a Good Thumping,** and **Embarrassing Personal Problems,)** aka **Skuzz:** Hold on a minute, now. How can you be Death? _He's_ Death. One of you's got to change. You could be...Undercooked Chips, or somethin'.

 **SPN!Death:** You're lucky you're not under _my_ jurisdiction, young man.  


**GO!Death:** HE GROWS ON YOU. RATHER LIKE MANGE.

 **Jay:** So you guys drive around in a kickass car and save hot bitches from monsters all day long, but the hottest ones always fuckin' die? Sucks to be you, man.

 **Dean:** No arguments from me, pal.  


**Silent Bob:** _*Taps Dean's shoulder and offers him a blunt*_  


**Dean:** _*Considers, shrugs, and accepts*_

 **GO!War** to **SPN!War:** A _ring?_ Seriously?  


**SPN!War:** _*Glumly*_ They put my sword in a museum.

 **Chuck:** I wonder what I'd have to pay for the rights to publish this...

**Author's Note:**

>  **Also appearing:** Jay (Askewniverse), Silent Bob, Death (Supernatural), Death (Good Omens), Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens), Bethany Sloane, Metatron (Dogma), Loki (Dogma), Bartleby (Dogma), God (Dogma), Adam Young (Good Omens), Skuzz (Good Omens), Chuck Shurley, War (Supernatural), War (Good Omens)


End file.
